Chapter Text
Suguru’s pretty.
It isn’t so much of a statement of an opinion as it is a statement of a fact. Suguru’s the prettiest. It’s inscribed in the canons at this point.
Once in their undergraduate years, there had been the usual campus polls and Suguru had won both prettiest boy and prettiest girl because apparently the student population quote “could not see a more attractive person anywhere on campus other than Geto Suguru no matter where and how hard they looked.” End quote. Gender fears people like Suguru.
Case in point, there’s an alarming number of people who would jump at the chance to have a date with Suguru, the only issue being that Suguru simply does not date.
Did not date, now at least, Satoru muses as he watches Suguru recite a presentation script to himself as he operates their well-beloved tsukemonoki. They’ve started to run out of their pickled vegetables reserves—lucky for Satoru’s health that Suguru learned to make them early in his youth with his parents.
“Gojo, are you still listening? Hello? Hello? Stop watching Geto, you’re on the phone for god’s sake. Have some decorum.”
But they’re all just random faces. Satoru isn’t looking for some naive hopeful thinking they can score a single date with Suguru and live off that high for the rest of their university life, or even some guy thinking they’ll be the one. He needs to find that one person Suguru has dedicated his heart to.
And so he returns back to the ultimate question: Who?
“Shoko…” Satoru finally returns his attention back to his call. “...Why doesn’t Suguru have—like—any friends other than us? It’s completely unbelievable. Ludicrous. Ludicrous!—I’m telling you.”
“He’s a pathetic loser.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. That makes zero sense.”
“And he’s an asshole.”
“...He’s a kind one?”
Satoru makes a skeptical noise in the back of his throat as he tries to shift himself around without dislodging the phone on his shoulder. “But there has to be someone special in his life. I just can’t figure out who it is…and Suguru’s the kind of guy to only fall in love with someone near and dear to him—a good friend. And I mean like, he only ever spends time with you and me and it’s definitely not you that he’s in love with.”
“Perfect reasoning. You have your answer right in front of you now, cheers.”
“...I don’t get it.”
Shoko sighs through the phone. “I’m not going to deal with this anymore. Bye. Have fun trying to set up Geto again. Or not. If he’s still single by the end of the month you two will have to spend yet another Christmas together—isn’t that a shame? Such a romantic holiday and all.”
“Shoko! Wait—”
“Bye now. Give my love to Geto too.”
She hangs up.
Satoru grumbles as he pulls his phone out from under his cheek, only for the screen to light up once more.
shoko: ask geto about his mock trial group from sophomore year. lol
“So you’re Miguel.”
“I am indeed.”
Miguel from mock trial, met in the flesh at long last, Satoru thinks as he observes the other man.
Satoru eyes the other man’s hoop earrings. Suguru wears earrings too—maybe that’s how they initially bonded. Earring buddies. Maybe he should get his ears pierced someday. He’d look hot in earrings—though not as hot as Suguru, of course.
“Hmm. Well, you already know that I’m here because of Suguru—are you still in contact with him? Stupid question, you definitely are.”
“Quite right. We talk occasionally.” Miguel smiles at him and sips his coffee languidly. “Not as much as I would like, but you know how Geto’s social life is. Wonderfully charismatic guy—he can talk to anyone, just gets a bit iffy when you think about how he really doesn’t get close to anyone, me included. Not that a lot of people particularly want to get close to him when they see his true colors—awfully jarring to see Mr. Polite And Respectful become a snarky bully. Though you and dear Ieri-san actually like him like that, you more so I’d say—as everyone says, really.”
Satoru scratches his chin. What the fuck is all that supposed to mean?
Well, all of Suguru’s mock trial companions were pretty batshit individuals. Miguel is the norm, not the exception.
His frown deepens. “But Suguru’s a good guy. And everyone’s mean—why wouldn’t people want to be his friend? He’s not that mean when it comes down to it.”
“You’re funny if you think he’s looking for more friends.”
“...You think Suguru’s got a problem with his socializing skills?”
“Not at all.” Miguel smiles at him. “Geto’s perfectly fine. His social life is rather ghastly but it’s what he chooses. I suppose he’s rather content with the people he’s with already.”
Satoru stares at him blankly. “Meaning?”
“Meaning sure. I’ll go have dinner with Geto on Friday.”
-
“Megumi, meet Nanamin. Nanamin, meet Megumi.”
“It’s Nanami.”
The three of them stare at each other for a stiff minute, two looking on with their extremely bad tempers evident in their very eyes and Satoru himself with a grand smile adorning his face.
The silence persists.
“...Do you two know each other already?”
“We’ve met,” Megumi says curtly, and then his eyes soften minutely. “He was Yuuji’s mentor of the undergraduate buddy program—taught him how to cook.”
Nanami nods rather stoically, but his face somehow feels less grim to look at.
“Really, is there any reason for this?” Megumi finally says, corners of his mouth pulling downwards in a definite grin as he gives Satoru the evil eye. “I’ve got a lab due tomorrow.”
“Megumi…come on now…isn’t it obvious that this is a business matter? We’re wearing the shirts and all.”
Nanami raises a single dramatic eyebrow at them but continues to refrain from adding to the conversation. Megumi simply blinks at Satoru’s plain white t-shirt marred only by garish, blocky text reading “I LOVE MY WIFE” except instead of love there’s just a heart frame encasing a picture Satoru took of one of his favorite furbies. Then Megumi looks back down at his own furbidized I LOVE MY WIFE” shirt and sighs rather dismally.
“I don’t like it, but I feel like I have to be here.”
“All for the greater good, Megumi. All for the greater good.”
“Are you two going to keep on prattling or are we finally going to discuss why it is we’re meeting?” Nanami finally asks. “I’ve got assignments due later and quite frankly I don’t intend on working on school matters past seven p.m.”
“What, you’ve got a pasta dish due at midnight?” Satoru snorts loudly as he swings one arm each around Nanami’s and Megumi’s shoulders, drawing them in towards him and plopping all three of them down into seats. Nanami glares at him in an absurdly put-off sort of manner while Megumi simply squirms like a doomed man—without palpable effort. “We have actual, important things to get to this afternoon. Much more important than your classwork.”
“Then just get to the point, Gojo-san,” Nanami says bleakly.
“Don’t be so insouciant, Nanamin. It’s almost like you don’t like people—haha, always assuming the worst of others!” His voice gains a degree of severity as he pulls their heads in closer. “I need your guys’ help. Like, really.”
“Evidently you do,” Nanami interrupts, voice terse. “Get to the point, Gojo-san.”
Satoru continues smiling at the two of them. “I need you two to help me with Suguru.”
Megumi and Nanami stare at each other, and then slowly look back at Satoru.
“No, no no no no. I won’t have any part in this,” Megumi says as he violently tries to escape Satoru’s embrace. Lucky for him that Satoru has rather excellent grip strength and can make sure Megumi stays and experiences actual fun.
“But Megumi! You know how it goes—can’t you feel it? That little part of your brain whispering to you that you have a role to play in this yet? Come on now—it’s Suguru. You like Suguru! Your favorite senior.”
“Not enough to put up with you and fuck those thoughts. And Nanami-san’s much better than Geto-san.” But even as Megumi speaks, his struggles die down until he’s just standing there pathetically.
Nanami, on the other hand, still hasn’t budged one bit—lackluster praise from the one and only Megumi aside. Satoru and Megumi both stare at him apprehensively until Nanami finally turns his eyes on them.
“Three words: kiss my ass.” Nanami dryly picks at his fingernails. “I’m not getting involved in your and Geto-san’s affairs. Neither do I think that any effort on my part would have any significant effect.”
“I knew you when you were in your emo phase, you damn punk,” Satoru sneers, wagging a disgracing finger. “You think wearing business wear and slicking your hair back changed anything? I know who you are—who you were. I have information about you that you wouldn’t want your classmates to know. Pictures, Nanami. Pictures! I know things that you—”
Satoru blinks. “What do you mean mine and his? It’s just Suguru—his love life needs dealing with, not mine. You’ve really got to stop with these assumptions, Nanami. They’ll be the death of you.”
“I—”
“Gojo-san’s extremely dense, Nanami-san,” Megumi interrupts. “Please don’t try to talk reason with him. It’s a losing battle.”
Nanami pursues his lips tightly. “What…sort of preferences does Geto-san have in men?”
Satoru and Megumi stare at him, wide-eyed. Nanami stares straight-forward, stone-faced.
“I asked you a question.”
“Ah—well—” Satoru clears his throat awkwardly. “We were talking a few days back and you know what, funny coincidence—I asked him what his type was! Gave me an an answer real quick too, no time to think at all. A detailed response too! Such an eloquent person, Suguru.”
Megumi blinks, unimpressed. “And? What was this eloquent response.”
“I like guys who have light-colored hair on the shorter side and pretty, light-colored eyes. Someone who will be there to support me in life but who is also someone I can have fun with so they’d probably have to be more than a bit of an asshole. Likes to fool around and can make fun of people but is ultimately conscientious in how they treat others—especially children. Guys who wear glasses and have abnormal fashion tastes are really, really cute to me.”
“Woah, you’ve thought about this a lot, haven’t you?”
“Maybe I have, maybe I haven’t.”
“So like—” Satoru pauses at the sight of Nanami’s constipated look. “—What’s all that for? Why are you always so mad at me? I’m just saying—I’ve never seen that Miguel guy’s hair but there’s a fifty-fifty chance he dyed his hair a lighter color! And who wears a hat that ugly? It’s like a lopsided bubble. A baloon! Plus his sunglasses are armless. Who’s he trying to impress?”
He slouches into his seat. “Though his and Suguru’s date didn’t work out, though it wasn’t Suguru’s fault this time. More of a Shoko-kind of situation—just wanted to stay friends. Larue’s got light hair and light eyes though and he volunteers at that one daycare and he always adds these bizarre heart-shaped patches to all of his tops when he’s not just strutting around with his tattoos on display. And he was in mock trial with Suguru too—all of those people were complete bastards.”
“Consider something: have you ever tried thinking about how well you apply to Geto-san’s…list of preferences?” Megumi asks as he disdainfully eyes Satoru’s frying pan hat. It even has a huge pumpkin and squash attached to it—the former being roughly twice the size of his head.
“I’ve never really thought about it,” Satoru muses. “Hmm, let’s see: light hair—check. Light eyes—check. Can support him in life—we literally live together, definite check. Major asshole—uh, I don’t think the biggest assholes know they’re assholes but Suguru likes guys who are at least half-nice so check. Fools around and makes fun of people—yeah, check. Conscientious in how I treat others—”
Satoru’s mouth hangs open as he stares at Megumi and Nanami, index finger slackly on his other hand, fully extended in count. “Guys…I’m not so sure about this game anymore…”
Nanami lets out a single, frustrated puff of air. “Yuuji-kun likes you well enough. Check it off. Don’t try to make it as if you aren’t Geto-san’s ideal sort of person when you quite literally are.”
“I don’t—okay, you know what? Fine, check. I’ve got glasses, check. Abnormal fashion taste…” He pauses again. Megumi and Nanami look rather devastated at the second break in thought, or at least as devastated as Nanami’s face can allow.
“My fashion sense is wonderful though,” Satoru says tragically, mournfully.
Why is he feeling so sad about this, exactly?
“Does this mean that Suguru doesn’t think I’m cute? I’m not sure what to feel about Suguru not thinking I’m cute. Wow, you know what? I really, really don’t like that.”
“Trust me, Gojo-san. Geto-san thinks you’re more than cute.”
“That’s…the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, Megumi-kun. I feel so reaffirmed.”
“Final listed item aside,” Nanami interrupts, “it’s quite evident that you’re more than simply a good fit for Geto-san, purely based on what he told you. Even if we don’t consider that his descriptions were rather purposeful and how close the two of you are, it’d be silly not to think that you aren’t exactly the sort of person Geto-san is looking to date. Trust me on this, please—I have drinks with Ieri-san more than either of us should.”
What.
Satoru feels oddly thrown out of place; it’s a weirdly visceral feeling that’s creeping up his spine and making his head feel woozy. His ears are not quite ringing but they’re taking in noise oddly and he feels like laying his head in his hands and pulling tightly at his hair.
What.
“Are you two trying—do you two mean to say that Suguru wants to date—”
“Oh my god,” Megumi blurts out suddenly before immediately slamming his mouth shut. “No no, please, please continue. Excuse my interruption. Literally ignore me.”
“Fuck,” Nanami says drearily and somewhat sadly.
“Wait—what is it? What happened? Did I say something—” Satoru whips his head around and gasps loud and clear as he turns to look in the same direction Megumi is though more importantly, his ears readjust and start taking in auditory input once more.
“—just consider cutting your hair, it’s not the worst thing you could do.”
“But I spent years growing out my hair and I—”
“But Suguru—think about it! How wonderful shorter locks would frame your face, and you’d feel so much better without such a heavy mass of hair weighing you down.”
“...And my face isn’t nicely framed as it is?”
“Darling, of course it is—you always look gorgeous. But you could be so much more. And just think about the two of us having matching bobs. Wouldn’t it be marvelous to—”
“EXCUSE ME!” Satoru screeches loudly right into Larue’s ear as Megumi and Nanami awkwardly shuffle their way out of the neighboring cafe. Truly a tiny world indeed. “ARE YOU OKAY?”
Larue, understandably, looks rather alarmed upon seeing the sudden intrusion. “I—I am? I’m sorry if I gave you any reason to think otherwise, but I’m in the middle of a private date, so if you could be so kind as to—”
“YOU’RE DEFINITELY NOT OKAY IF YOU THINK THAT SUGURU SHOULD CUT HIS HAIR!” Satoru screams louder and closer to Larue’s ear. Suguru giggles from the other side of the table.
“W—What? Were you eavesdropping on us?” Larue looks deeply offended for a moment before his eyes widen. “Wait, are you the man Suguru always talked about? That man who’s—”
“YEAH I’M THE ROOMMATE,” he booms, before whipping out an arm and pulling a chair over to the table, effectively inviting himself into the group. “And I’ve been his roommate for five years—five whole years! Which means I’ve seen just how much care Suguru puts into his hair. He loves his hair!”
He points a sharp finger at Suguru, who promptly raises a hand to his head and gently strokes his silky smooth, really quite healthy hair. “I so do love my hair. I’m practically obsessed with hair care.”
“See? Exactly! Between hair and a man Suguru would always choose his hair, especially if the man in question was a first-time date—no way in hell would he sacrifice his beautiful hair, nor should he! Suguru deserves a man who loves and appreciates his hair and—and can even help Suguru with his hair. He deserves the world.”
“Aww, you’re going to make me blush, Satoru.” Suguru gently smiles at him as he rests his cheek against a hand. “Didn’t know you liked my hair so much.”
“Are you kidding me? I love your hair. I’m your hair’s greatest fan, second only to you—of course. Like it’s just so—you’re just so—”
“I’m sorry if I caused offense?” Larue winces as they both redirect their gazes onto him. “I’m—ah, I’ll just take my leave now. Nice seeing you again, Suguru. Stay in touch.”
“We’ll talk again when I get the chance to visit Mimiko and Nanako again,” Suguru calls out to the retreating man. Satoru waves bye-bye to Larue—not that the other can see him, but Satoru does feel somewhat bad for running the date he helped orchestrate.
Though not entirely bad, Satoru thinks as he and Suguru turn to face each other, and now, like this he gets to watch Suguru undo his hair tie and shake out his hair and cup his hands about his face in a cheap guess at what it might be feel like for him to have shorter tresses curling around his face and simply ends up laughing again, so hard that his hair falls forward and obscures his face.
“You’d never have considered cutting your hair, right?” Satoru reaches forward and gently cards his fingers through Suguru’s hair and pushes it back and over his head, the pads of his fingers delicately gliding over Suguru’s scalp. This way at least, he can see Suguru’s laughing face. “Like, if you really wanted to then go for it but you wouldn’t just cut it because some guy said he’d date you or stay with you only if you cut your hair, right?”
“I don’t think Larue wouldn’t have dated me if I said no, but you’re right. I wouldn’t consider it.” Suguru smiles at him almost secretively before reaching up to tie back his hair again. “I might say that if a certain someone asked me too, I’d put some serious thought into it but knowing that guy, he’d never ask in the first place.”
Satoru tilts his head. "Well, I'd never ask or tell you to cut your hair if you didn't want to."
Suguru smiles fondly as he secures his bun in place. “I know you wouldn't. You know, that man—he likes being able to help brush my hair before we go to sleep and likes to braid it when we watch movies.
Satoru smiles back, but it feels just a bit forced. He likes to do those things with Suguru too; he thought those were their things.
Though if Suguru finally gets together with the guy he loves, a lot of “their” things won’t be theirs anymore, now that he thinks about it.
“You really are in love, aren’t you, Suguru?”
Suguru stands up, automatically brushing off his jacket before coming over next to Satoru, arm poised for Satoru to link his own arm with his. “Yeah, yeah I am.”
As he’s always prone to do, Suguru smiles again. “Let’s go home now. We can watch a movie and order takeout for dinner, your choice.”
“Can I pick the movie too? And I want to braid your hair again.”
“You’re definitely not picking the movie this week. And yes, you can braid my hair.”
-
Satoru hums a tune to himself inside his head as he flips through his diary to get to this month’s entries. He can’t hum out loud right now, not when Suguru’s asleep on his end of the couch.
DECEMBER 2017
Fushiguro Megumi: Way too fucking kind to be real and loves animals—holy shit; 12/01 10:17 AM.
- incredibly down bad for itadori yuuji
Itadori Yuuji: He’s got such nice eyelashes and wow…that smile; 12/01 11:08 AM.
- Is in love with a pretty boy.
- megumi??????
- definitely megumi
Kugisaki Nobara: I fucking love her. Women, wow.
- can figure things out on her own probably wouldn’t want help anyways
- it really was maki huh
- THEY’RE TOGETHER
Suguru: Maybe someday I’ll confess my love, but that day won’t ever come soon; 12/01 1:13 PM.
- WHAT?????????
- Ask him what kind of person he likes, his ideal date, does he prefer kisses or hugs, what kind of future he sees for the two of them, does he want a cat?
- i think suguru would want a cat
- suguru does like hugs more.
- I like guys who have light-colored hair on the shorter side and pretty, light-colored eyes. Someone who will be there to support me in life but who is also someone I can have fun with so they’d probably have to be more than a bit of an asshole. Likes to fool around and can make fun of people but is ultimately conscientious in how they treat others—especially children. Guys who wear glasses and have abnormal fashion tastes are really, really cute to me—manually recorded 12/20 8:34 PM.
- Attempts: Iori Utahime, Ieri Shoko, Miguel (mock trial), Larue (mock trial), TBD.
Satoru ruminates, thumbing at his pencil as he studies his notes. He’s limited himself to just the four entries, despite accurately predicting Nobara’s success to be a virtual guarantee. Really, he should be focusing all his attention on Yuuji and Megumi’s plight, but he can’t help but think more about Suguru.
He glances over at Suguru and instantly smiles as Suguru lets out an especially loud snore and flops over, smushing his entire face into the age-old couch cushion and kicking out a leg, hitting Satoru’s shin.
Absently enough, Satoru takes the blanket folded over the arm of the couch and throws it over Suguru as he jots down one last note under Suguru’s entry, handwriting looking worse than usual without the other hand to hold the paper still.
- Consider myself??
He slowly sets down his pencil, contemplating the scratchy kanji. Well, there it is out on paper for the world to see. In zero point seven, medium-hard graphite lead. A thought for him to consider indeed.
There’s another loud snort before Suguru rolls over again, and then again before stretching out his limbs and yawning and then finally opening up bleary eyes.
Then he spots Satoru and his face breaks out into a delighted smile.
“Satoru.”
“Good morning, Suguru.”
“Morning,” Suguru sleepily replies as he rubs at his eyes and pulls the blanket tighter around him. “What time is it? Did I sleep through most of the movie? Sorry about that.”
“I was just kidding, it’s just midnight. And you needed the sleep. Not beauty sleep though!” He waggles his eyebrows as he raises his hands up to frame Suguru’s visage in a picturesque rectangle. “You’re still fine-looking enough even if you’re missing out on sleep.”
“Thanks, I think.” Suguru hauls himself up before scooting himself closer to Satoru, peering over at him. “Writing in your diary again—ah, your journal. Let me guess: thinking about Megumi-kun?”
“Absolute right!” He thoughtfully taps his pencil against the still-stiff pages. “He and Yuuji-kun are frustrating in the most mind-boggling, endearingly peculiar sort of ways. Like they’re so obviously in love with each other and all they have to do is say the magic words to each other and they could get together! Just like that! Love is hard only because people make it hard, it’s really just so simple.”
He turns to glare at Suguru. “Mind you, you’re making it difficult for the both of us.”
“Am I now?” Suguru asks gleefully, leaning back into an over-arm position. “What was it you said? Those love-stricken idiots just have to say ‘I love you’ to each other and boom, it’ll happen?”
Role-playing?
“Well—I mean—essentially, yes.”
“Perfect. Well then—I love you, Satoru.” Suguru smiles beatifically at him. “Now I’m just waiting for the reciprocation. And then boom, so it happens.”
Role-playing! Satoru giggles inwardly to himself.
“I love you too, Suguru!” He cheers before springing himself forward and entrapping Suguru into a nice, warm, tight hug. “Wow, that was some great practice. You’ll really be able to deliver a nice, confident confession to your loved one. I’ve seen some flubs over the years and I’m telling you, Suguru, you won’t flub yours with all the ‘I love yous’ you’ve been saying.”
Suguru puffs out a loud sigh as he pats Satoru on the back, slow and steady. “Yeah. Practice. Should have Megumi-kun and Itadori-kun practice too or else they’ll fuck up their thing, they’re those kind of morons.”
“Wait, Suguru, you’re onto something.” Satoru shoots backward, grabbing at his diary. “Those two totally need help!”
“You’re just realizing this now…?”
“No no no, dummy. Of course they need help—that’s what I’ve been trying to do all month. But they need help in the real. They need the one and only Gojo Satoru to dedicate a night to helping them out in all his power.”
“In all your power?” Suguru echoes incredulously. “Going to blast them with a one hundred percent ultra-charged mega love blast with your Sailor Moon wand, aren’t you now?”
“You think you’re so damn funny, don’t you? Well, I’ll have the wand with me but I’ll just be…subtly influencing a course of events.”
“I’m sure you’re very good at subtle influencing,” Suguru says affectionately as he watches Satoru scribble out a potential list of scenarios. “Picturing the—what was it—’the one and only Gojo Satoru’ frolicking about helping out two pathetic teenagers is quite the vision. I’d pay to see it.”
“You don’t have to pay or anything, you can just come with.” Satoru grins cheekily as Suguru makes a noise of exclamation. “Come on now, Suguru, no need to be so surprised! What’s the fun of being the one and only Gojo Satoru when I can be with you? I’ve had enough of five years of doing this on my own. We can tag team! Or just stay together the whole night—actually, yeah, I think I’d like that. It’d be quite lovely.”
“I wouldn’t hinder you or anything?” Suguru quizzically tilts his head to the side. His braid is starting to unravel; his hair is curlier than usual after having been braided for a few hours. “I wouldn’t know how to handle myself or anything.”
“Pssh, it’ll be fine!” Satoru leans over and pulls out the hair ties, letting Suguru’s hair breathe freely. “It’s not like I can fly or anything special. It’ll just be the two of us sneaking around campus at midnight making sure we hide from Yuuji-kun’s oddly suspicious eyes.”
Suguru still looks at him rather warily, though now there’s a hint of mischievousness lining his eyes. “Not giving Megumi any credit? He’s rather attentive, especially when it comes to you. You know how he gets—it’s like he has a radar telling him he has to get away from you.”
“Ever seen him around Yuuji-kun? No? Well, trust me on this one—when he’s with Yuuji, the rest of the world quite literally does not exist for him. He’s so terribly in love, Yuuji-kun is the only thing his eyes could ever see.”
“That bad, hmm?” Suguru ducks his head off to the side—and his hair being down means most of his face is hidden, but Satoru knows the contours and lines of his face well enough to spot the telltale signs of a knowing smile making its way across Suguru’s face. “I’d know something about that myself.”
So it’s really like that for Suguru?
“So it’s like that, wow,” he voices, pulling back Suguru’s hair. “So will you come with me?”
“There was never any question as to whether I would or not—of course I’m coming.”
-
Satoru makes a loud shushing noise at Suguru, who’s really quite loudly trying to struggle his way through the already narrow, cramped alleyway to where Satoru is waiting.
“Suguru! You’re going to wake up the cats if you’re any louder. Megumi-kun feeds the cats so if they wake up they’ll go to him and that’s the last thing we want.”
“I’m trying my best,” Suguru hisses as he finally makes his way over to Satoru and squats down next to him. “What in the Neon Genesis Evangelion is this outfit? Not that I’m being critical, but this isn’t the greatest in terms of comfortability.”
“Is it not? And I thought I got your size right and everything.” Satoru pulls at the fabric experimentally. “And this isn’t mecha at all—it’s a motorcycle tracksuit!”
Suguru peers back down at his outfit. A full one-piece that even merges into sturdy, lightly-heeled boots. Glittery teal patterns decorating the pants with a single block of the magnificent color on the boots—all edged in black. Some fancy, English typography in glittered red diagonally crossing the front of the suit, marred only by a zipper. An electric purple leather jacket on top—reversible even, with its equally bright orange lining.
“I just thought it was a cheap copy of those plug the pilots wore.”
Satoru, of course, is in his usual work outfit.
“Suguru, I’d never subject you to such an abomination. You were made for greater things than wearing badly created Evangelion cosplays.”
“...You’re really so sweet to me.”
He grins stupidly at Suguru before recovering himself and skillfully scampering out closer to the resident courtyard, taking care to avoid the lamplights. Suguru easily follows him.
He ducks behind another bench, smashing his wings down up until Suguru reaches him and simply holds them down for him.
“Okay. Here’s the plan: I have it on good authority that tonight Megumi and Yuuji are going to be doing laps in the courtyard having a late-night talk or whatever else it is that late teens do when they’re pining and sleep-deprived. What we’re going to do is throw rocks until one of them bends down to pick up a rock and critically aim another rock throw so that the other has to go pick up another and then—if we time it right—they’ll look up and be really close each other and stare at each other and get lost in each other’s eyes and it’ll just be so perfect they’ll feel like they—”
“Wait a minute,” Suguru interrupts, slamming a hand over Satoru’s mouth. “That’s your plan? Assaulting them with rocks—pebbles I hope—until they get annoyed enough? I don’t even think we can coordinate good enough timing for all that to happen after?”
Satoru pulls Suguru’s hand off, leveling a dashing wink at him. “Don’t you worry. Cupid, remember? Like I said, I’m pretty normal when all’s said and done but one thing about actually being at work: an extraordinary amount of luck comes into play for me. I bet that if for some reason I’d need to win the lottery to set up two people, I’d actually hit the jackpot.”
“Is that so?” Suguru muses quietly, peering over at the stagnant darkness of the courtyard. “I’m not entirely convinced, I’m afraid.”
“Oh come on, have a bit of faith.” He drags Suguru up, resolutely marching the two of them towards the courtyard—secrecy be damned. “It’s the twenty-third—they should be able to spend Christmas Eve together! And I really do need them to get their shit together when your deadline is literally tomorrow. God, I can’t believe I might be failing my end of the deal.”
“You’ve still got an hour till midnight, Satoru. Never know what might happen.” This time it’s Suguru who’s winking at Satoru. “Ah—there they are.”
Satoru holds back a noise of surprise as Suguru drags him up and over and right inside the large mailbox right by them. Odd enough that it’s empty and unlocked, but Satoru really wasn’t kidding when he talked about luck being on his side.
Suguru’s breaths echo loud and clear into Suguru’s ears as the two of them struggle to fit their limbs comfortably around each other in the tight space before eventually just settling on very tightly hugging each other and smushing their cheeks together, trying to share an equal view out of the thin slot of scenery the mail slot provides.
“—And so Okkotsu-senpai didn’t have assignments for a full three weeks after Gojo-san blew up the entire lab. Like, the entire lab. Crazy.”
“Okkotsu-senpai didn’t have any non-labwork classes?" Megumi’s awful boots shuffle against the cobbled paths. “Weren’t there other labs he could relocate to for the time-being?”
“Well, he was working on a big research project, so he’d have to redo everything from scratch. His stuff was still in the lab, away somewhere that didn’t get caught by the blast but there was a lot of rubble blocking the path.”
Megumi chuckles fondly. “Leave it to Gojo-san to inconvenience everyone’s lives so much.”
Suguru elbows Satoru harshly before he can voice something either insulting or sulky. “Watch it,” he hisses before redirecting his attention back outside.
“Say now,” Yuuji says suddenly, eyes taking on a new light. “Has Gojo-san seemed kind of off to you recently? I mean like him and Geto-san, them together.”
“When are they not odd?” Megumi sighs. “But yes, I know what you mean. They’re at once more skittish with each other and intensely more all over each other’s space. Like leeches.”
“That’s exactly what I mean!” Yuuji snaps his fingers excitedly. They pass by the mailbox, blocking off all the light for a flickering moment. “I didn’t even know that was possible. Are they finally together now? I keep trying each year to make them win the campus best couple poll, but each year the officials keep telling me they still don’t qualify. It’s getting annoying.”
“He keeps trying to nominate us for what?” Satoru whisper screeches as Suguru desperately tries to smother him.
“Shut, the fuck up,” Suguru mouths at him. Satoru dimly recognizes in the poor lighting that Suguru’s cheeks are redder than usual, and that’s enough to make him shut up.
“You know, I have a feeling that they’ll get their shit together before the year ends.”
“Before the year ends? Megumi, that’s only…one…two…that’s only seven days! Well, six now. You really have that much confidence in Gojo-san? I’ll have to tell him next time he stops by, he might even cry.”
“Shut up.” Megumi’s frown softens. “I don’t, really. Nor do I have faith in Geto-san either. It’s just that if you’ve seen the two of them around—”
“And I have.”
“—Yes, you have. It’s just that Geto-san more openly looks at Gojo-san like he’s really happy just to be seeing Gojo-san. Like he could die at literally any moment and it’d be fine because Gojo-san’s the last thing he’d see. Or something like that.”
“...That’s weirdly poetic coming from you, Megumi.” Yuuji stares at the ground, single-mindedly kicking the same pebble forward and forward and forward.
“We were supposed to throw pebbles at them,” Satoru says blearily, hoarsely. Suguru wheezes a cough in affirmation.
“Yeah well there’s no normal way to describe that kind of look,” Megumi says as Satoru whips open the door and drags in a pile of pebbles—again his luck helping him out with making the door’s motions soundless and the pebbles so conveniently close-by—leaving the door open just a crack. “It’s like trying to write an essay in just one sentence.”
“Still kind of really hard to word it in any way, I would think.” Yuuji blinks confusedly as Megumi fluidly raises up an arm and catches a pebble flying towards him without looking.
“Fuck,” Satoru swears mulishly. Suguru rubs his back comfortingly.
“You know—Megumi,” Yuuji laughs nervously. Are things inadvertently starting to work out? “The way you’d described it, it’s almost like you know the feeling yourself.”
Megumi doesn’t react the slightest bit except for ducking his head down ever so slightly. “Maybe, maybe not. What about you?”
“Ahaha, well I—I’m—”
“This is so incredibly awkward,” Satoru hisses. “They’re so terrible at this. Suguru, do you see what I’m seeing—”
“It’s midnight,” Suguru whispers except when the words enter Satoru’s ears it’s as if it’s in the same velvety, soothing cadence his voice has always had every day of Satoru’s life. “That means it’s now officially the twenty-fourth. Merry Christmas, Satoru.”
Satoru whips around in his shock, only to go utterly still and completely silent upon spotting the look on Suguru’s face.
“...Suguru? Is everything alright?”
“I’m going to tell you something right now and I need you to take me seriously. More seriously than your thesis defense. More seriously than anything else you’ve had to consider in your entire life.” He reaches out and gingerly cups Satoru’s face, staring him directly into his eyes. “Promise me you will.”
“Promise.” Satoru looks right back into Suguru’s eyes. They look black, almost blue-tinted in the odd lighting of the mailbox. Yuuji’s and Megumi’s voices echo softly from outside, but they filter out by that time they enter Satoru’s ears when all of his attention is focused on Suguru’s gaze.
“Satoru, the guy I’m in love with is you. It’s always been you. I love you very dearly and I think it’s finally time that you knew that?”
“I—Wuh?” Satoru garbles.
“You’ve always been my best friend but I sort of really started loving you a couple years back, maybe longer, I’m not entirely sure myself.” Suguru rambles on and on, lowering his face slightly in unwilling embarrassment as his cheeks darken. “I never really felt any pressure to tell you before—I mean like we had such a great thing going on already and I didn’t feel like anything would change really but there was always the risk that something might change if you didn’t feel the same and it always felt as if you were still figuring out how relationships worked and I was your first friend after all I didn’t want to burden you with—”
“Hang on,” Satoru says slowly. His tongue feels like something extraneous to his body, thick and heavy and entirely doughy. “You’re in love with me?”
Suguru gapes at him. “Why, but yes. Yes I am.”
“Oh my god,” Satoru chokes out. “You’re in love with me.”
We might actually share that small cottage home with two kids and a cat, Satoru thinks deliriously. I need a moment to think.
“Oh my god. Oh my god.” Satoru repeats, bringing out the best of his acting skills to sound positively horrified as his head jerks back, blindly waving a finger at the thin slivers of lights pouring in. “What in god’s name is happening with Megumi and Yuuji? Are they fighting? Oh my god!”
Like an absolute loser who always listens to Satoru, Suguru falls for it and immediately shifts his attention towards the mail slot, alarm taking over him. Satoru gloriously takes the chance to make his epic escape, ripping open the mailbox and flopping forward with Suguru into a messy pile of limbs.
“CUPID! IT’S CUPID-SAMA!’ Yuuji screams loudly, jumping backwards into Megumi’s arms as he points an accusatory finger at Satoru. “IT LOOKS LIKE GOJO-SAN! OH MY GOD, CUPID-SAMA STOLE GOJO-SAN’S BODY!”
It'd be fucking hilarious if his heart wasn't this close to shooting out of his throat, he thinks in an oddly peaceful manner as he extricates his wings from Suguru’s biker jacket and sprints his way out the courtyard, out through campus. He ignores Suguru’s increasingly quieting shouts as well Megumi’s and Yuuji’s half-angered, half-aghast yells.
—And then he joins in with a shrill scream of his own at Suguru pops up right in fucking front of him.
“Satoru,” he says in-between huffing gasps. “Just hear me out, yeah? Good god—why’d you run—you can’t even outrun me on a good day.”
“Panic reaction,” Satoru says weakly. But his body relaxes as the adrenaline leaves his body and he’s left to just meet Suguru’s gaze.
Why did he run, after all? It’s never been like him to get so uncomfortable with Suguru, even with such topics like these. Though admittedly, they’ve never quite dealt with topics like this.
“Satoru.” Suguru raises up a hand, but he doesn’t bring it up to meet Satoru’s face this times.
“I’m not requiring you to reciprocate or anything—” Suguru coughs awkwardly, “—though admittedly no small part of me believe you would—I just want you to hear me out. Actually no—I need you to hear me out. This has been going on long enough.”
“This?” Satoru echoes. “This being—”
“This being—well, everything.” Suguru waves his arms around vaguely. “The cuddling, the kisses, the hugs that go on for minutes upon hours until we fall asleep together. Us lying in bed while you brush my hair and I read a book out loud. Holding hands in public—good god, Satoru—we kiss in public.”
Satoru’s mouth opens and then closes. He feels awfully stupid, right about now. And awfully cold with the winter winds and besnowed ground slowly making its presence known through his cheap sandals.
“I just—I just want to know what we are. I need to know if you feel the same sort of love I do for you.” Suguru almost shyly, uncharacteristically, thumbs the material of his sleeve. “Consider it a box to check off for your cupid surveys: Does Gojo Satoru love Geto Suguru back?”
“Is that what this is all reduced to? A simple yes or no answer to one of my ridiculous surveys?” Satoru’s nervous laughter echoes hollow in the air for a fraction of a second before dying off as Suguru looks back up at him with nothing but kindness in his eyes.
“Didn’t you say so yourself? Love is simple, or something like that.” Suguru finally extends out his hovering hand and catches one of Satoru’s, thumbing thawing warmth into his numb hand. “I don’t want you to think about it too hard, not when we’ve had five years and not when all I need is an answer.”
Satoru tightens his fingers, locking his and Suguru’s fingers together in an embrace. “You really want to boil all this down into something so simple? Suguru, you deserve a bit more thought than that.”
“I do, don’t I?” Suguru’s eyes crinkle happily. “But you’re already so considerate of me, day in and day out. Quite literally, you’ve been thinking about me and love in conjunction for the entirety of the month. Just let your mind go quiet and answer something, plain and simple. Nothing else to it.”
Satoru opens his mouth again, and then snaps it shut again. Despite trying to clear his mind, his thoughts keep returning to Megumi and Yuuji, Suguru himself, everything that’s happened over the past month.
He thinks about Suguru: five years ago, four years ago, three, two, one, and then Suguru now. The way his fingers fit with Suguru’s then and now and how they might be able to fit together, just if he can let them have that kind of life.
Satoru knows he’s a lot. Even when he’s out and about with Suguru—which happens to be the majority of the time, he’ll be thinking to some extent, unconsciously, about how easy it is to mesh with Suguru, how nice it is that they share so much in common, can laugh at the same things, laugh just as hard. They’re both stupid little idiots, annoying ones, and Satoru likes it that way.
And then some individual will come along, later in some separate part of life. Maybe a pairing for a project, a casual chat at this campus or the other’s cafe. Mention something about how they’ve always seen him and Suguru around Tokyo, never had the chance to talk to either of them. Say something strange: you and Geto-san are such an interesting pair, such polarized opposites, the two of you. Sun and moon! How did someone as reserved as him become friends with a guy so boisterous as you?
Most times he doesn’t give a fuck. What’s the opinion of some random nobody he won’t ever see again? Much less talk to.
But he does give a fuck sometimes—it just so happens that whenever those sometimes arise, Satoru always returns to home at the end of the day and home is where Suguru is and no other thoughts can exist in the face of Geto Suguru other than pure, unadulterated love. Sue him for being mushy but he’s always been pretty pathetic when it comes to Suguru.
He kind of really does want this sort of life, one with Suguru for a dreadfully, beautifully enduring set of years. For the rest of his probably fucked-up, insane Cupid life that Suguru has always been so dearly accomodating of and forever will be of, given everything that Satoru knows about Suguru.
“You know,” Satoru finally says, tightening his now slack hold on Suguru’s hand and drawing the other one up in a similar hold. “You really must be crazy in love to have put up with me for as long as you have, but I guess I’m just as crazy for putting up with you.”
Suguru’s eyes widen. “Are you saying you love me too?”
“Don’t make me repeat it? Did you really want that boring old yes or no answer?” Satoru swings their hands together vigorously. “Once took enough courage! I had to pump myself up to say it out loud—I nearly fainted on the spot!”
Suguru laughs out loud, pulling their hands in so suddenly that Satoru stumbles forward and knocks his head against Suguru’s but at least this way, Suguru’s laughter echoes pearlescent and radiant in Satoru’s head.
“You’re so embarrassing to be around, Satoru. Let’s go home before Megumi decides to start chasing us. We can sleep in tomorrow and walk the streets together when it’s dark—I’ll find you a KFC that isn’t sold out and we can take home a Christmas cake.”
Satoru huffs a laugh as they set off in an easy walk back towards their dorm, hands shoved into Suguru’s jacket pocket. “Will you make me dinner if KFC isn’t available?”
Suguru grins fondly.
“We’ll just steal from Nanami.”
-
“So there’s some weird history between Tengen and Kenjaku…but even weirder history between Kenjaku and Itadori Jin? This is too complicated for me to want to handle without pay.” Satoru pauses. “Hold on—Itadori?”
“Satoru? Are you ready? The ceremony’s going to start in a bit—we need to get in our seats now.”
“Coming, coming!” Satoru trills as he shoves his notebook in his backpack, ducking out of the waiting room and joining Suguru at the entrance, looping their arms together and immediately setting off in a brisk walk. “Any news from Yuuji-kun on your end?”
“No, but I think they’re just fine.” Suguru sighs like a deeply annoying old man. “Hard to imagine that all of our favorite juniors are graduating now. We’re old, Satoru.”
“I’m literally nine-years-old.”
“Please don’t ever refer to yourself like that again.” Suguru goes quiet. “Nine years of this non-stop—time flies. Will you ever be able to stop with your cupid work?”
Satoru shrugs, a full-bodied motion that makes Suguru’s shoulder twitch. “I dunno, really. It’s like how it doesn’t matter how bad I am at the job, there isn’t going to be some vengeful deity that’ll swoop down and zap me if I just up and stop doing my duties. But I’m still having fun and I don't really get burnout so I’ll keep doing it for a while yet.”
“Well, whatever you want to do.” Suguru pulls them over to the side to fix Satoru’s tie one last time before they enter the memorial arena. “Whatever you do, I’ll be there for you. Though you really do need to get a job because I’m certainly not going to be the breadwinner of the family purely because you have a job that has its wages unofficially defined as being able to laugh at pining idiots.”
“Hey, you laugh at them too!” Satoru wheezes as Suguru tightens his tie just a bit too harshly. “Okay fine, fine! I’ll get a job. You know I would have anyways.”
“I can always trust you, can’t I?” Suguru says dryly before reaching out a hand towards the door, pausing just as his hand grazes the doorknob.
“Say now, tonight do you want to go—how to say it—help out Nanami and Haibara? For old time’s sake. We won’t all be gathered here again for a long time yet.”
“Are you kidding me? Hell yeah, let’s do it.” Satoru exchanges a fiendish smirk with Suguru as he lays his hand atop Suguru’s and they both open the door together.
“We can even bring them both to an arcade and shove them into those ticket blaster machines—you know the ones—and fill up the ticket dispensers with pictures of Nanami in his emo phase.”
“Satoru, that’s so mean of you. I’ll send you the pictures I have. Midnight then?”
“It’s a date.”